


tête-à-tête

by archaeologies



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: M/M, god i hate that it recommends the dub names to me, idolship - Freeform, idolshipping, there's maskshipping if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archaeologies/pseuds/archaeologies
Summary: he doesn't know what it is, but he knows something is very wrong. something's missing.





	tête-à-tête

**Author's Note:**

> for dori, who asked for bittersweet idolship

Ra Yellow is just a formality, at this point, and Marufuji Ryo knows it. He won’t shut up about it, actually, and as much as Fubuki loves hearing his voice, he really thinks he could be putting it to better use than complaining. Well, complaining about Duel Academia policies, at least; Tenjoin Fubuki imagines there’s a fair share of things he wouldn’t mind hearing Marufuji Ryo criticise in low growls between hitched breaths. 

Right now, though, lying on the floor of his dorm and listening to Ryo say that he won’t stand for this, that Fubuki should be angry about this too, that Fubuki should be doing something about this, isn’t really his ideal plan. No, he hasn’t told his parents yet. Yes, he thinks they might be disappointed. No, he isn’t going to do anything to try to stop this - getting moved down from Obelisk Blue to Ra Yellow is far less embarrassing than getting expelled from Duel Academia before finishing his first year, and Fubuki is happy to comply. Or rather, he’s what passes for happy at this point. He knows it isn’t quite right. 

It’s not like getting moved down to Ra Yellow isn’t even entirely undeserved; Fubuki has not been going to classes, and when he does, he’s there with nothing more but his deck and ukulele. He’s sure he’s been doing it since the beginning of the term, sure there used to be someone he could borrow a pen and some paper from. Moving down to Ra Yellow isn’t entirely unwanted, either. There’s something off about the Obelisk Blue overfill dorms, something that keeps him up at night, that means he can’t make eye contact with the door to the basement, that means he keeps finding himself fiercely-yet-absentmindedly pacing outside Room 4G, like his furious footsteps alone could change the fact it’s been empty all year. 

Ryo says he should have realised something was wrong before now. Fubuki can’t decide whether or not to agree. Mostly, Fubuki just wants to scream that everything is wrong, that the whole world has shifted on its axis and is spinning at a new angle, but no part of him can work out why. There’s no logic to the disconnect he’s created between himself and everything else, no reason he should be jumping at shadows, no reason he should be this profoundly miserable and alone (beside the obvious being-very-nearly-kicked-out-of-school situation, combined with the concept of actually having to be at school in the first place), yet every now and again some infuriating insinuation that he does have a reason to be upset comes and perches on the tip of his tongue and does absolutely nothing more. 

So yes, Ryo should have realised something was wrong before it was decided Fubuki would move down to Ra Yellow, but not with Fubuki. Ryo should have realised that this whole fucking school is - it’s not right, and Fubuki doesn’t know how, Fubuki doesn’t know what’s off with it, but Ryo is so much smarter, and more observant, and he should care that - should care about something, Fubuki thinks, before sinking further into the floor of his dorm. 

Something about Ra Yellow is familiar and comforting to him. He thinks someone told him the uniform brings out the gold in his eyes, once, or maybe Tenjoin Fubuki was just born knowing what looks good on him. 

... 

It hits Ryo just how wrong things are when he starts his second year at Duel Academia, and finds himself alone. Some part of him has always been prickles and thorns, barred teeth, sharp wit, and gnashing teeth, and he realises that doesn’t make for an ideal friend. He’s just been lucky that there’s almost always been someone at his side who doesn’t mind. 

There isn’t now. 

Ryo Marufuji balls his uniform into his fists, and swallows back saliva that tastes like metal and vomit. His legs are twitching viciously. He’d stand up and pace, but pacing has never been his thing, and it isn’t like he can leave his room right now anyway, can he? Maybe he can. He doesn’t know. He can’t focus long enough to think. 

He’d expected this year to go well, to fix things. The beginning-of-year placement tests had put Fubuki pack into Obelisk Blue, because there was no way a duelist of his caliber could stay in Ra Yellow, even if he didn’t turn up to the written exams. The fact that his family often donate to the Middle School, where their daughter is currently in attendance, might have helped too, but Ryo doesn’t want to believe in anything beside Fubuki’s capabilities. That was a sign that things would improve, right? Winning, progressing, moving up in the world, that’s how you show you’re recovering, isn’t it? That’s what that means. That’s what it should have meant. 

It didn’t mean that. It didn’t mean that because now things are worse than ever. Fubuki isn’t even in Obelisk Blue. He isn’t even anywhere, and no one seems to care. 

Ryo wonders if this is how it felt for him. Maybe he should lie on the floor too, and do nothing. Except doing nothing is the ultimate sign of giving up and basically makes more problems than it fixes, so he isn’t going to do that. He’s going to find Fubuki, he’s going to force the school to face their mistakes, and he is going to do whatever he needs to do to remedy this. He won’t stop until things are good again. He won’t. 

... 

“Your hair used to be so soft,” Ryo reminds a boy who doesn’t answer, who lies still and sleeping, a face somewhere between sad and serene. “I remember. Touching it was like... holding feathers.” 

He isn’t good at compliments, or at conversation at all really. His voice always sounds hoarse, like it’s out of use, and his tone is often dull. Ryo thinks the only time he really talks is when he’s duelling, and that’s just yelling words that are written down on cards for him, so he doesn’t have to do any thinking or put any feeling into it. He hasn’t had enough practice at letting joy drip from his lips in laughs, in jokes, in playful mockery, and he especially hasn’t had the chance to speak like that with Fubuki gone. 

Now he’s back, Ryo doesn’t quite know what to say. There was so much before, wasn’t there? So much he needed to tell him, so much he wanted Fubuki to be there for. His mind is blank now. Even if it wasn’t, he has no guarantee that Fubuki will ever be able to hear him again. He brushes Fubuki’s fringe out of his face, and pulls up the blanket of the bed his boyfriend lies comatose in. 

There’s only one thing that Ryo wants to say now. “I love you,” he whispers. 

Under the blanket, Fubuki’s fingers tremble. 

When Ryo leaves the infirmary, he does not look back. 


End file.
